Come Hither.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
and find that you're being strangled by your iPod earphones
because you slept with your iPod on.
"i think every asian girl likes hello kitty ...
it's like loving rice!" Do you like hello kitty? ;DD
No.
Are you the same person who left me like 9 questions in one sitting?
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
This flu won't even let me drink my coffee in peace.
>:
This made me cry so bad.
I'm just being extra emotional today.
Excuse me while I go cry into my dog.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Rust, Athens Queen.
That old crow came back today,
sitting in my window like a prophet,
out on the fire escape, to say,
"Anger is just love left out, gone to vinegar."
You wake up a stranger to yourself
then you learn to live with her,
sit in her clothing 'til you fill out her.
Figure you know life's no bella telanovela,
the tightrope bows with your weight in the center;
the slide show don't put all the pictures together.
You try to do it right though,
until you let the kite go.
Death and romance, the riddles of our lifetimes.
Try to get a slow dance in the middle of a knife fight.
You get up and you give blood, even on a good night,
even on a good night out.
You send signal, you listen for an echo.
Crow took me by the shoulder
and he told me,
"Honey, don't let go,
nobody fears the height, you all just fear the fall.
Go to the edge sometime, and prove your body wrong.
You land badly, but you crash standing.
You come as fragile, soft machines,
and you're bound to fast, you're bound to grieve.
But you're built to balance on two feet,
so why you living this last year from your knees?
I know you lost a bet, go ahead and catch your breath.
But when the worst relents, you learn to live on less.
You duck some, you take some square.
Your luck runs out, you're there in midair."
Oh, please put me down again.
"You land badly, but you crash standing."
That old crow came back today,
sitting in my window like a prophet,
out on the fire escape, to say,
"Anger is just love left out, gone to vinegar."
You wake up a stranger to yourself
then you learn to live with her,
sit in her clothing 'til you fill out her.
Figure you know life's no bella telanovela,
the tightrope bows with your weight in the center;
the slide show don't put all the pictures together.
You try to do it right though,
until you let the kite go.
Death and romance, the riddles of our lifetimes.
Try to get a slow dance in the middle of a knife fight.
You get up and you give blood, even on a good night,
even on a good night out.
You send signal, you listen for an echo.
Crow took me by the shoulder
and he told me,
"Honey, don't let go,
nobody fears the height, you all just fear the fall.
Go to the edge sometime, and prove your body wrong.
You land badly, but you crash standing.
You come as fragile, soft machines,
and you're bound to fast, you're bound to grieve.
But you're built to balance on two feet,
so why you living this last year from your knees?
I know you lost a bet, go ahead and catch your breath.
But when the worst relents, you learn to live on less.
You duck some, you take some square.
Your luck runs out, you're there in midair."
Oh, please put me down again.
"You land badly, but you crash standing."
For the record, my heart is sore.
I was ready to be his pride,
when he feels embarrassed.
And to be the guide,
when he needed directions.
I put him first, I thought he'd stay,
but he couldn't weather the storm,
so he left me here in the rain.
Sometimes, people come into your life,
and you know right away
that they were meant to be there,
to serve some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson,
or to help you figure out who you are,
or who you want to become.
Some may leave, others choose to stay.
So we all take chances,
because it's better to cross the line
and suffer the consequences,
than to stare at that line
for the rest of your life.
And at some point, you have to realize,
that he doesn't care, and maybe, just maybe,
you're missing out on someone who does.
Well, all stories wait for endings, but songs,
songs are brave things bold enough to sing,
even when all they know is darkness.
I was ready to be his pride,
when he feels embarrassed.
And to be the guide,
when he needed directions.
I put him first, I thought he'd stay,
but he couldn't weather the storm,
so he left me here in the rain.
Sometimes, people come into your life,
and you know right away
that they were meant to be there,
to serve some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson,
or to help you figure out who you are,
or who you want to become.
Some may leave, others choose to stay.
So we all take chances,
because it's better to cross the line
and suffer the consequences,
than to stare at that line
for the rest of your life.
And at some point, you have to realize,
that he doesn't care, and maybe, just maybe,
you're missing out on someone who does.
Well, all stories wait for endings, but songs,
songs are brave things bold enough to sing,
even when all they know is darkness.
as soon as I give a fuck.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
It was pretty angst-ridden though.
This is just the tits.
I drank too much last night and woke up this morning
feeling like throwing my fucking organs out.
I'll just ... go eat strawberries.
Sigh!
Story so far,
January has issues with her mother,
February is always talking about things he wants to do,
while March does them, April eats sweets,
and May pays for them.
June is the oldest but not the wisest
and July always has an opinion on everything.
August never stops trying do the right thing,
even if he doesn't always know what that is.
September once saw something so sad,
she never stopped crying.
October holds the lift for anyone,
vice-presidents and street-sweepers alike
(for his memory, not for theirs)
and November makes fun of him for this.
December is tired but always hopeful.
He has never once stopped believing.
Monday's obviously a bastard,
quite literally as one can't remember what or who one was doing.
Tuesday's temperamental but okay,
as long as you stay on her good side.
Wednesday doesn't say much
and Thursday sometimes hums just to break the silence.
They're in love.
Friday's always wasted
and she and Saturday hold each other tightly
until their delirium fades.
But Sunday, Sunday knows she's the end.
But she closes her eyes,
and she pretends with all the strength in her tiny heart
that really, she's the dawn.
and nostalgia feels like you.
January has issues with her mother,
February is always talking about things he wants to do,
while March does them, April eats sweets,
and May pays for them.
June is the oldest but not the wisest
and July always has an opinion on everything.
August never stops trying do the right thing,
even if he doesn't always know what that is.
September once saw something so sad,
she never stopped crying.
October holds the lift for anyone,
vice-presidents and street-sweepers alike
(for his memory, not for theirs)
and November makes fun of him for this.
December is tired but always hopeful.
He has never once stopped believing.
Monday's obviously a bastard,
quite literally as one can't remember what or who one was doing.
Tuesday's temperamental but okay,
as long as you stay on her good side.
Wednesday doesn't say much
and Thursday sometimes hums just to break the silence.
They're in love.
Friday's always wasted
and she and Saturday hold each other tightly
until their delirium fades.
But Sunday, Sunday knows she's the end.
But she closes her eyes,
and she pretends with all the strength in her tiny heart
that really, she's the dawn.
and nostalgia feels like you.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Oh Korean, our love-hate relationship!
It's sort of like, there's this hot girl you're banging,
but like, one day your mate's like,
"Aww yea, I had that piece of ass last night."
And he actually did.
And like, you don't take that shit.
You don't take that shit.
Y'know whut I'm sayin'?
So like, you're the slutty hot girl,
but I accept you because ...
Shut up and suck my dick.
Oh fuck this.
I can't believe I've spent all my waking hours
watching Korean drama.
Korean's the slut that clings on to me
like a condom clings on to a giant dick.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.
I never really had the time for months now to actually pen some serious stuff here. Stuff relating to the heart.
It started two weeks after the biggest letdown, when new people started walking into your life.
Yet five months and turmoils later, they're still here. And because they've stayed throughout, that's when you and I both know, they're for the keeping.
I am one easily swayed. I make decisions, both of good and bad. Sometimes I bang on the hope that the one bad decision might actually turn out good. Sometimes I resign to fate.
Many have called me a pessimist, but I know enough, been through enough, to be standing tall today, and to tell you, whoever you are reading this, that sometimes, don't put your expectations too high, because when you fall, you fall the hardest.
I do not fancy people placing their expectations on me, because I might not be able to live up to them. Neither do I want to put my expectations on others, for fear they can't live up to mine. And also because at the end of the day, whatever the outcome, I take both the blame solely on myself - to fail to live up to expectations, to put so much hopeful burden unto another.
Of guilt, of hatred, of regrets, of shame, of pain.
And when that happens, I retreat into my own sphere of paranoia, and depression. It would take me ages to get out, and probably never for you to get in.
Relationships become very causal because of expectations. We ought to feel this, because this is the effect of a cause. A cause, like a kiss, should set you ablaze. A hug should ease the pain. A real woman to submit to her spouse. A true man to have many cars and the riches. And the list goes on.
If the nature of a relationship, good or bad, depends on this endless checklists of expectations and demands, I would say that relationships are nothing but merely an act for others, and the checklist as proof.
People fail to see that a relationship is between two individuals, not more. So who are we outsiders to put descriptive words for the couple?
We may say, "They are so happy together!" but is happy truly the correct word? An understatement.
I believe that love, is for two to tell, never more. And love is not by words nor actions, but felt. Through the eyes, that are the willingly opened doors to one's heart.
The above. They are important.
But the most important things are always the hardest things to say. They are the things I get ashamed of, because words diminish them - words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in my head, to no more than living size when they're brought out.
But it's more than that. The most important things lie too close to wherever my secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure enemies would love to steal away.
And I make revelations that cost me dearly, only to have people look at me in a funny way, not understanding what I've said at all, or why I thought it was so important that I almost cried while I was saying it.
That's the worst, I think. Because the secret always stay locked within until now.
This secret -
never for want of a teller, but for want of an understanding listener.
Y JJ
I never really had the time for months now to actually pen some serious stuff here. Stuff relating to the heart.
It started two weeks after the biggest letdown, when new people started walking into your life.
Yet five months and turmoils later, they're still here. And because they've stayed throughout, that's when you and I both know, they're for the keeping.
I am one easily swayed. I make decisions, both of good and bad. Sometimes I bang on the hope that the one bad decision might actually turn out good. Sometimes I resign to fate.
Many have called me a pessimist, but I know enough, been through enough, to be standing tall today, and to tell you, whoever you are reading this, that sometimes, don't put your expectations too high, because when you fall, you fall the hardest.
I do not fancy people placing their expectations on me, because I might not be able to live up to them. Neither do I want to put my expectations on others, for fear they can't live up to mine. And also because at the end of the day, whatever the outcome, I take both the blame solely on myself - to fail to live up to expectations, to put so much hopeful burden unto another.
Of guilt, of hatred, of regrets, of shame, of pain.
And when that happens, I retreat into my own sphere of paranoia, and depression. It would take me ages to get out, and probably never for you to get in.
Relationships become very causal because of expectations. We ought to feel this, because this is the effect of a cause. A cause, like a kiss, should set you ablaze. A hug should ease the pain. A real woman to submit to her spouse. A true man to have many cars and the riches. And the list goes on.
If the nature of a relationship, good or bad, depends on this endless checklists of expectations and demands, I would say that relationships are nothing but merely an act for others, and the checklist as proof.
People fail to see that a relationship is between two individuals, not more. So who are we outsiders to put descriptive words for the couple?
We may say, "They are so happy together!" but is happy truly the correct word? An understatement.
I believe that love, is for two to tell, never more. And love is not by words nor actions, but felt. Through the eyes, that are the willingly opened doors to one's heart.
The above. They are important.
But the most important things are always the hardest things to say. They are the things I get ashamed of, because words diminish them - words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in my head, to no more than living size when they're brought out.
But it's more than that. The most important things lie too close to wherever my secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure enemies would love to steal away.
And I make revelations that cost me dearly, only to have people look at me in a funny way, not understanding what I've said at all, or why I thought it was so important that I almost cried while I was saying it.
That's the worst, I think. Because the secret always stay locked within until now.
This secret -
never for want of a teller, but for want of an understanding listener.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
WHY THE FUCK IS KE$HA ON THE FM?!
"Tikkkk tokkk, suck my cockkkkk!"
I SWEAR TO GOD.
THERE WILL BE BLOOD.
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